Blaze (The Firefighters of Darling Bay Book 1) (7 page)

Another howl of laughter went up on the porch. “The dog…” 

“I don’t get why she’s in hysterics.” Grace asked. 

“I think she was laughing at me, not the dog. I’d just gotten out of a service—Bill Tunney’s funeral, you know.” 

All three pulled appropriately somber faces. Grace had never met the man. 

“And I was still in my robes. While I was outside saying goodbye to the mourners, this little thing came up and squatted on Mrs. Chumley’s shoe. When Mrs. Chumley screamed at her, the dog ran right out into traffic. I ran after her.” 

Samantha’s head popped up in the window that opened onto the porch. “And then he was chasing the dog! All flapping in his purple robes, that dog always just in front of him. They shut down all of Second Street. I swear, a school bus almost plowed into the Turners’s tractor.” 

Color drained from Pastor Jacobs’s face. “Can you imagine?” he whispered. “If I’d caused a devastating accident, just because I was chasing a…dog?” The unspoken curse word hung in the room. 

Samantha—still laughing—disappeared from view again. 

Tox quirked an eyebrow at Grace. “Is she always like that?” 

“Drunk at noon? Not really.” 

Pastor said, “She’s not drunk.” A pause while he scratched the dog on her head. “Is she?” 

Grace laughed then. “No.” Thank goodness. 

Pastor heaved a sigh. “I guess I’ll take this one down to the pound. I’d keep her myself but I promised Mrs. Jacobs I’d never bring home anything with fur that wasn’t in the shape of a coat. It’s too bad. She’s a nice pup.” 

The pathetic-looking puppy was in the process of gnawing on the top of Tox’s boot. It appeared to be a fruitless task—her teeth couldn’t puncture the leather, but she was shining them with the copious amount of spit coming from her mouth. For a moment Grace pictured herself with the dog, cuddling. It would be nice to have a dog keeping her warm at night. 

But it wouldn’t be fair when she was working long hours at the clinic, and she could never bring a dog inside, not while she had clients with extreme allergies. The animal shouldn’t even be inside now. 

Tox bent forward. “No need, Pastor. I’m headed that way myself.” 

“You are?” 

“I have to go grab a couple of things at the hardware store.” 

Mike’s Hardware was two doors down from the city pound. 

“You’re on your motorcycle,” Grace pointed out. 

He shrugged. “I’ll walk.” 

Grace eyed the way the dog pushed herself into Tox’s arms, burying her nose under his chin. Good grief, just minutes ago, she’d been the one drooling all over his body. 

This was not how today was supposed to go at all. 

“Are you sure you don’t mind, son?” 

“Nope,” Tox shook his head. “I’ll take her now. Grace, are we done for the day?” 

“Yes,” said Grace. “You were a good patient.” 

Samantha’s giggle rose from outside, so loud it sounded like someone was tickling her. 

Without acknowledging the sound, Grace shut the window with a bang. “Thanks for coming.” She cleared her throat. “For coming
in
.” 

Tox snorted. Even the pastor gave a small smile. 

Grace shook her head and glanced at the schedule on her phone. Maybe if she appeared very busy…

“Will you go out with me?” said Tox. The puppy in his arms licked his chin. 

Heat rose in her neck. She looked behind her. “Are you talking to
me
?” 

“Well, I don’t think it’s me. On that note,” said Pastor Jacobs, “I’ll take my leave.” 

“I’ll walk you out, Pastor. Grace, I just wanted to know if tomorrow night you’d go grab a bite with me. I’ll come get you here. Say six?” 

She looked down at the face of her phone, as if she could find something there to say. She was so surprised she could only think of one thing, only one word that might be appropriate. 

“Yes.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The dog was a runt. A sick, tiny runt. As he held her, Tox should have felt sad looking into the dog’s watery eyes. He should have felt sad for the life the puppy’d had so far, and even more sadness for how she’d probably never make it, not going to a place like the Darling Bay Pound. But all he could think about was Grace’s mouth on his, the warm solid softness of her as she’d fallen down on top of him. Yeah, he might have pulled her a little bit, but a bit of encouraging wasn’t what got her stretched out full-length along his body. 

Tox held the puppy against his chest and gave her a scratch on her belly. He smiled as she wriggled herself to an upside-down position in his arms. 

Grace had said yes. 

He passed Mrs. Cross and nodded to her, ignoring her dropped mouth as she registered that the thing he cradled was a puppy. In front of Skip’s, a little girl holding her brother’s hand noticed the same thing and made a sound that could have shattered crystal. 

He passed Josie’s Bakery, and his mouth watered. Josie was a flipping genius with sugar and flour. From inside the yellow-walled shop, she waved out at him. She was pretty. He’d dated her for a short time last year, till she realized he was more into scoring overtime at work than scoring with her. It just hadn’t been a match, no matter how cute she was. 

He stroked the puppy’s tiny head with his thumb. But what was really cute? The warm honeyed sound Grace got in her voice after she’d been kissing him—almost a purring noise. That was cute. No, that was
hot.
Tox felt the summer sun breaking through the fog, hitting the back of his leather jacket. It would be too warm to wear it soon. 

Or was that just him overheating, thinking of Grace? 

Dang. She was a two-alarm fire, and he wasn’t planning on dumping water on that fire. He wanted to watch her blaze, and he wanted to burn along with her. 

Inside the pound, John Skinner gave him a nod as he entered. “Got a dog for me?” He sounded displeased, and his long nose wrinkled the slightest bit. Tox had known Skinner since they were kids, and even back then he wouldn’t have given him a job dealing with animals. He was tall and painfully thin, with a perpetual frown on his face. He had a thin mustache that made him look as if he were about to tie a girl to the railroad tracks. The funny thing was that Tox knew he was a fighter—he really
tried
to save the animals under his care. He hated putting them down, and once Tox had seen him at the bar after a rough shift. After three martinis (two too many for a guy his size), he’d started weeping into his gin about the dog he’d had to put to sleep that day. 

“Give it over.” Skinner gestured to the counter. 

All Tox had to do was let the dog go. Just fill out the form. Walk out the door.

Why then, was he having such a hard time doing it? He felt stupid for even admitting it to himself, but when he looked down, he could see Grace in this darn dog’s eyes. Was it that maple color? Was it that soft, welcoming look of trust? He hadn’t been looked at like that for a long time. 

Now two girls in one day had looked at him that way. 

“You gonna keep her or what?” Skinner crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Because I don’t got all day. I got two sick dogs in the back that might not make it. They’ll probably give this one what they have, even though doc’s got ’em on all the antibiotics already.” 

Tox hesitated. “Don’t you always say it’s the puppies you can adopt out, no problem?” 

Skinner raised one eyebrow so high it almost got lost in his combover. “Have you looked at that mangy little thing? She’s two breaths away from dead.” 

Tox looked down. The puppy was shaking like she was caught in a rainstorm. She was matted fur and ribcage. Drool trailed from her mouth, and her eyes ran so that it looked like she was crying. And still that little tail gave a soft
thump-thump-thump
against the leather of his jacket. 

“She’s a strong little pup.” The dog took the finger Tox gave her and chewed on it. “See? Friendly.” 

“She’s so hungry she’s trying to eat your flesh, that’s all.” Skinner held out his hands. “Come on, Tox.” 

The pup stopped chewing on his finger and looked up at him. She gave a soft whine and tilted her head to the side. She was ugly. Little. Sick. And Tox was totally in love with her. 

“Well, heck.” 

“Looks like you have a dog, my friend.” 

Tox didn’t say anything, just held the puppy tight and barreled out the door he’d just come in. 

He wondered if the dog would mind a short ride on a motorcycle. He held her up to his face and received another lick. 

Seemed like she was pretty daring. She’d probably like it.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“A date? Tomorrow night?” 

“Well, at least you finally stopped laughing.” 

Samantha rocked back on her heels and set down the African violet she was repotting on Grace’s back porch. “Where are you going?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“What time?” 

“Six.” Grace brushed dark soil off her hands and looked with satisfaction at the fuchsia she was cutting back. The sharp, acrid scent pleased her nose. It smelled like dusty summer to her. Their mother had loved fuchsias. “I don’t know why I’m going out with him at all. His name is Tox, for Pete’s sake. I swore after the last guy—”

“The last three guys.” 

“—the last three guys that I would only date someone healthy. Someone with his head on straight and his stuff together.” 

Samantha waved a dirty hand. “Whatever. The real question is, what are you going to wear? I have a couple college application clients tomorrow night. If I do your makeup in the morning, will you promise not to touch it all day? I’d come do it right before, but I have a date, too.” 

Grace felt a flutter of nerves in her stomach. “Who?” She knew she was deflecting.”

“Just a guy.” Samantha finished tamping more soil around the root ball. “Can I do your makeup?” 

“Oh, crap. Fine.” 

“
Yes.
Pass me that watering can. And guarantee me you won’t wear those shoes.” 

Looking down at her favorite black Dansko clogs, Grace frowned. “These are cute.” 

“They’re birth control.” 

Shocked, Grace said, “Well,
good
. It’s not like I’m going to need any other kind.”

 Samantha finished with the violet. “Look at all this mint! It’s crazypants! Let’s make virgin mojitos!” 

“I’ll pass.” 

Samantha pulled off her gloves and stood. “Put down the trowel.” 

“I still have three more petunias to put in.” 

“Screw the petunias. You can’t kill those things. Come inside, have a fake drink with me, and we’ll decide what you’re wearing.” 

“But…” 

“Start your loosening up early.” Samantha went inside, the screen door slamming behind her. 

“Wait a minute.” Grace followed Sam inside. “What do you mean?” 

Sam gave a light laugh as she rinsed the mint she’d picked. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just that you could stand to let go of the reins a little bit.” 

Grace felt a flash of heat. That’s exactly what Gary, her last boyfriend, had said. Right before he’d dumped her to take the trip they’d planned together, absconding with her money which she could only assume he blew on the horses. 

Her sister snapped her fingers in front of her. “Earth to Grace. You haven’t heard a word I’ve been saying, have you? Drink this.” She pressed a cold glass into Grace’s hand. “Now, to my room. I have just the right thing for you to wear.” 

“I’m not looking like a hooch. You can’t make me.” 

Samantha said, “I’m just going to take it as a compliment that you think I could come close to making you look like one.” 

“And no heels!” The drink did actually taste amazing. Light and sweet, tart and not too minty. “How did you make this?” 

“I stared into it until the sin in my soul filled the glass. Why? You like it?” 

Grace said. “It’s not bad. Bring on the carnal wear.” 

Samantha pulled Grace into the spare bedroom. “Eye shadow! Perfume! Low-cut top! This is what I’ve been waiting for ever since I moved in!” 

“Lucky me.” Grace bumped Sam with her shoulder. 

But in fact, she meant it. 

The next day at work, Grace had a hard time hiding her nerves. As Scrug Watson hung up his green Deere baseball cap on her hat rack, she’d dropped a box of clean needles with a clatter that made everyone in her treatment room jump. Scrug said, “Whatchoo nervous about, girl?” 

“Accident, sorry,” she’d said lightly, picking them up. Within ten minutes she’d stubbed her toe twice and knocked over a glass of water on her desk, soaking her day planner. She told herself to breathe, but somehow taking in air and holding it made her feel even more jumpy. 

By five thirty, she was out of the practice, walking home. She stumbled twice. Stupid Danskos. 

By quarter to six, she was home. 

Ten minutes later, she was in her bathroom, checking her makeup. 

She wouldn’t be nervous. 

It would be stupid to be nervous. 

Jeez
, she was nervous. She felt like a jumpy cat balancing on top of a cement mixer. 

The mascara her sister had insisted on putting on her this morning was still black and thick. Just like Samantha had promised, it hadn’t smudged, but then again, Grace had been too terrified to touch her eyes all day. She’d flat-out refused the eye shadow after she’d read the ingredients to her sister. Bismuth oxychloride and propylene glycol? Who knew what those did, being absorbed into the skin all day? 

Now, Grace put on the deep cherry lipstick her sister had insisted she wear. She took a step back and smoothed her hair. The black V-neck was deep, but it hadn’t made her feel embarrassed today as she’d leaned over patients, so it wasn’t too low. The dark red straight skirt made her calves look good, she could admit that. The black heels? At least four inches high? Well. They
did
make her feel pretty. And she’d promised Sam. 

About clothing, anyway. Samantha had also said that she should try hard to get into trouble before the end of the night.